On Singing Badly

I have a secret skill: singing really badly. Seriously.

And by badly, I mean excruciatingly badly.

Ask my brother. When I wanted to torture him growing up, I would sing ‘New York, New York’ as loudly and as off-key as humanly possible. (Try it! It really lends itself to full-throated terrible singing.)

Singing well is a great joy, of course. It’s probably my greatest joy, maybe my greatest gift to give to others, and I practice every day to hone that skill… but there’s something incredibly freeing about singing truly, utterly horribly, with total abandon.

Make a joyful noise! That makes other people cringe! Amen!  : )

So naturally I love this Randy Glassbergen cartoon:





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